Just Another Night
by ScribbleScribbleDoo
Summary: He knew that it was hopeless-it was also desperate, waiting for a response but he couldn't help himself to not say it when she is right there, just asleep.


This is my second one-shot. Please read and enjoy :] And do review- I appreciate it!

P.S. The editting. It never stops. *le sigh* Ideas just come and go.

It was just one of those nights when they would just lie down on her bed, after the drinking and arguing is done. She cries her tears and he holds her. And then he would whisper to her and have no response, for she was tired and asleep.

"You just snapped. You were doing already well, though. You don't need to be too hard on yourself, Roxy," he says just a little while ago, running his fingers through her hair. It was the same words, but he never grew tired of saying it, and she, hearing it. She sniffs, her voice cracking a little.

"I-I didn't disappoint you like last time, d-did I?" she asks, her breath still slightly reeking of vodka. Thank God she was more sober than last time. Well that's an improvement. He answers with a yes, squeezing her shoulder. She sighs deeply and snuggles into him more. She is just so tiny compared to him, and it feels right...to be with her in these precious moments.

Dirk really didn't know how it started. He just wasn't the type to be so intimate with someone. Well, except perhaps _someone_, a certain green-spectacled boy. But he's happy with Jane. And he's fine with Roxy.

After finally beating the goddamn game they decided started anew; with Jane and Jake to an isolated island—she was _finally _happy—whilst him and Roxy decided to live separately at first. But eventually they thought it was dumb and she moved to his apartment instead.

Living with her wasn't that hard. He knew Roxy, afterall. She was disorganized and spontaneous, her clothes—ahem_, intimate clothes rather—_scattered from her bedroom, on top of the sofa and just _everywhere _while he tried his best to keep the explosions from inside his room and the robot parts properly discarded. They'd played video games from her pink consoles and live off with eating instant or fast food and sometimes, they'd go star gazing— looking at the cosmos and admiring the universe they had created.

(Maybe they'll even have a drink or two. Roxy had her addiction controlled afterall. Well, _used _to.)

It was perfect, and maybe, just maybe...he's starting to fall in love. From the way she smiles, the way he hears her voice and her laugh...maybe he isn't the robot that he thinks he is. That he _is _human, afterall.

That what he's feeling for her is _real, _is _true. _It didn't come from pity. It came just as it was. It came from what seemed to be brotherly concern to what one would call deep affection and young love.

But good times doesn't last, until the fateful day. When everything just went wrong.

It was just a simple accident. Just a drunken accident he didn't foresee. It was just a slip, and a hard hit on the floor.

But now, she can't remember anything at all.

And that's the _past,_ for while she is lying next to him after proving her yet again wrong that somebody does love her—he knew that till this day, he's yearning for her love and affection, despite _everything. _

But her love is also in the past, and somewhere, embedded in the darkest part of her mind. Struggling, perhaps, to be recalled. He also knew that she was far too damaged now to feel anything except loathing and despair, like _before_ and he's afraid he couldn't fix that anymore.

But what he doesn't understand that of all the memories, it was the _present _that she can't recall. When everything was perfect. When they had it all now. No more heartbreak. No more despair.

It was too irrational to hope. It's been _years._ The doctors said that it was too late—the chance of recalling her memories will be very slim. But still.

He holds on, despite the fact that she _always_ rejects him and she _always_ forgets. And it fucking hurts till this day.

Dirk just sighed as he felt her relax in his arms, signifying that she might have fallen asleep, like those many nights. She always falls asleep first, but he doesn't mind. He knew that it was hopeless—it was also desperate waiting for a response but he couldn't help himself to not say it when she is right there, just asleep.

That maybe she'll remember.

But she wouldn't believe it, anyway. Not like she _used _to. But still...

"I love you, Roxy."


End file.
